


A Cherub Appears

by ZeldaByrdeBishop



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Edward Spellman arrives for a brief moment, F/M, awban compliant, tw. whipping, young Zelda and Faustus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26878789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZeldaByrdeBishop/pseuds/ZeldaByrdeBishop
Summary: Faustus Blackwood meets Zelda Spellman a few days after her arrival at the Academy- the two strike a deal of mutual interests.
Relationships: Faustus Blackwood/Zelda Spellman
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	A Cherub Appears

Greendale, USA

1548

“Glad was the Spirit impure; as now in hope

To find who might direct his wand’ring flight”

-Paradise Lost (John Milton)

“You have truly showed exemplary work in your studies this year Faustus and due to your marks, we’ve decided to grant you scholarship in order to continue to study within out academy walls, rather than to send you to the Orphan Hall in our Ninth Ward,” the esteemed Professor of the Church of Night relayed as he handed Faustus Blackwood the papers that would grant him his continued stay. 

“Thank you, Professor Spellman. You won’t regret this decision. I swear it to you!” the young warlock promised with wide hopeful eyes as the door to the professor’s office slammed open and Professor Warman barreled through the doors holding a boy by the ear, dragging the chap into the office.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Professor Spellman demanded as he stood up from behind his desk. 

Professor Warman grabbed the cap off of the boy’s head and threw it to the ground, exposing the most beautiful girl Faustus had ever seen. Her red hair cascaded out of the cap as she stood up tall. Her arms crossed as best they could as her lips pulled into a sinister bow, scowling at the offending professor and then up to Professor Spellman.

“I believe this is yours. Caught her in the back of my Demonology course. Those studies are not safe for witches as we well know!” 

Professor Spellman scowled menacingly and pointed to a chair in the far corner. 

“Zelda. Sit. You will be dealt with. Thank you, Brother Warman.”

Zelda? As in Zelda Spellman? Yes, of course. Of course! He should have known that. They all sat at the front on the other side of the church with practically the entire congregation between them, but he should have immediately recognized the red hair. Despite the mortal’s myths, it was a rare color among their kind. 

We watched as she tore away from Professor Warman and sat down in the chair her father directed, sitting more properly in slacks than half the witches at the academy would even think to in a dress. Their eyes connected and he froze. Her eyes narrowed and her nose crinkled. 

Faustus frowned deeply and looked back to Professor Spellman as Professor Warman shut the door behind him as he exited. 

“You can go now, Faustus. I expect your continued attendance,” The regal Spellman finished before sitting back down at his desk.

Faustus rose and nodded, “Thank you, Professor.”

He quickly gathered his belongings and left the room - the air beginning to fill with hostility between the girl and her father, but instead of leaving, he stood beside the door, listening, curious. 

It was hard to hear exactly what was said, but the girl’s defiant pitch was surprising. He wondered why she’d bother sitting in on Demonology. Witches didn’t like demons. They liked herbology and the adventurous ones also dabbled in astronomy. Perhaps she wasn’t really a witch after all….. A demon?! No. That’s doltish. Could a witch want to pursue advanced magic that was beyond her? 

He thought of Lilith. 

Yes. Perhaps they might - even if it would bring their ruin. Although, the Spellman girl was likely the first to try such a feat. 

Then he heard the whip. His eyes widened as he jumped. He’d lost track of the conversation within the office, having gotten too distracted in his own thoughts.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 

That should have been the end of it, but it continued-

10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15. 

He could hear the professor hit the whip against the floor and feet shuffled against the floor. 

After a few moments the witch exited the office. Her gait and posture were perfectly poised and if the blood hadn’t been seeping through the back of the thin cotton shirt, no one would even have been the wiser. 

“Wait!” He called out, rushing out into the hall after her. 

She scowled as she whipped around, the air surrounding the witch was suffocating with nothing other than pure nastiness as the quip of her British accent hit him like knives, “What do you  _ want _ ?”

“Would you like to wear my jacket?” 

Her lip pulled up into a snarl and she kept walking, but he followed. “To cover the bloodstains. My name is Faustus. Faustus Blackwood -”

“I know. You’re the student on  _ scholarship _ .”

He frowned deeper, “How did you know?”

“My father told me and I’m going to tell the whole school.”

He scowled and grabbed her arm, “No! Stop. Don’t.”

If she told the school - he was done for. He would be harrowed again and this time worse. He wouldn’t make it out of that harrowing alive no matter what spells he knew.

Zelda grinned wickedly at him, “I will. Now unhand me, louse!” She finished as she tore away from his arm.

“Can you read?! You can borrow my school books!”

The witch froze and slowly turned back to him.

“Yes. Yes! On Friday nights you can come to my quarters and pick whichever book you’d like so long as you return it by Sunday night.”

He watched as the witch’s lips twitched while she thought, weighing the prices between her options before she crossed her arms. She’d made up her mind. He held his breath.

“Any book I want?”

“Any book you want, but you should probably borrow the instructional Latin one first as most are in Latin-”

“I’m already fluent.”

He was taken aback, but nodded, shifting his weight a bit, “....then I suppose whatever one you want.” 

Her red head cocked slightly to the side and then she nodded. “Deal. Friday night, when everyone else goes to dinner, you will wait for me in the warlock’s quarters.”

“Deal,” He reached out his hand.

The witch looked down at it and then took a knife out from her pants pocket. His eyes widened as she cut her hand and then his before her hot bloody palm grabbed his. “Deal. Now say it again.”

Faustus looked into the startling green eyes of the witch. He was fearful, but enchanted, trying desperately not to show it as his fingers brushed against her soft wrist, “Deal.” 

He was struck at how unsteady he felt when she let go. It was as if he’d lived his entire life without anything to anchor him down. 

“Now you have to be there. Goodbye, Faustus.”

He forgot to bid her adieu as well as he watched the younger witch turn from him and walk away towards the witches quarters, mesmerized by the blood dripping from her slender pale fingers.

***

“Are you coming, Faustus?” his best friend, Edward Spellman, asked as he started to make his way towards the door with the rest of the boys. 

“No...I’ll catch up. I just need to finish writing up a letter,” he lied.

Edward rolled his eyes with a smirk as he held out his arms, “You don’t even have anyone to write!”

Faustus stiffened in his shoes, “I do so!”

“Well, hurry up! You know the food here tastes like shit cold!”

Faustus smirked and waved him off, grateful when the door finally shut, leaving him alone in the warlock’s chambers. He wasn’t sure exactly when Zelda would arrive, but his impatience was too much for him and after about thirty seconds he got up and peeked out into the hall. It was dead silent. 

“.....Sister Zelda?” He kept his voice at a whisper in hopes only the right ears would hear.

“What?” a whisper of the same timber asked from inside the room beside him causing him to practically jump out of his own skin as he slammed the door shut!

“How did you get into these chambers?!”

The witch’s lips simply pulled into a wicked grin as she turned on her heel and skipped into the center of the boy’s bed circle.   
“It smells quite rotten in here!”

“It’s the warlock’s quarters...” he scowled, walking over to the chest at the end of his bed.

“Do warlocks have no soap?” She asked as she began to search for the offending smell, lifting one of the boy’s sheets, her face pulling into a grimace.

Faustus smirked, pulling out his astronomy book, holding it in her direction. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I doubt the things you find in a warlocks bed are...gentle enough for a young witch’s mind.”

She flicked her fingers up, letting the sheets fall down and her eyes snapped to the book in his hands, instantly scowling at his choice. “You said I could choose.”

“This book is the most palatable for your kind. I can assure you.”

Zelda’s feet hardly touched the ground as she made her way towards him leaning over to look through the trunk herself, pulling out “Histories from 3000BC to 500BC.” 

Faustus opened his mouth to argue, but found himself swallowing his words as the witch stood up quickly, her face quite close. 

“I want this one.”

“You won’t understand it.”

“Perhaps.”

She seemed unbothered and resolute.

“No one can know you borrowed it from me.”

“And you don’t want anyone to know you’re here on scholarship. It would be such a shame if Brother Brutus and Brother Martin found out,” she retorted with a gentle tap of the book to his nose before she turned away.

Faustus quickly grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to him roughly. The witch looked back up to him with a gleam in her eyes.

He spoke deliberately and sternly. He needed her to understand how important this was or he was as good as the chopped liver that was surely waiting for him in the dining hall, “I mean it. You can tell no one.” 

Suddenly, a shield fell off the wall behind him and he spun around. 

No one was there, but in the time it took him to turn around, the witch had broken free of

his now loose grasp and was out the door before he could protest. 

He prayed to Satan she would keep her end of the bargain, partially so his secret stayed safe and he could continue to uphold the Blackwood family name after his parent’s untimely deaths (although it comforted him to remember that witch lives were rarely seen to their natural end), but also in the much quieter part of him, so he might see her again. There was something about that witch. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. All he knew was he wanted her, whatever that may mean.


End file.
